From Jordan to Homewood, a life shaped by hands and heart

by

People

On most mornings at Saxx Hair Design in Homewood, sunlight slips through the front windows in long, quiet beams, settling on mirrors, chairs and the quiet memory of yesterday’s work. The room is still, waiting for the day to begin. Before the first client arrives, before the hum of dryers and the rhythm of conversation fills the space, there is already a man moving gently inside it, awake to the day as it fully arrives.

His hands are ready. They have been ready for more than four decades.

For Monier Emaish, work has never been just that. It is rhythm. It is conversation. It is a way of staying connected to the world, one person at a time. And like everything in his life, it began when he was a young boy playing under the olive trees in Aqaba, a coastal city on the Red Sea in Jordan.

The youngest of six children, Emaish’s home was shaped by faith, family and creativity. At the age of 5, he watched his much older brother, Hani, sit at a coffee table, painting with oils, a cigarette dangling from his lip, a cup of coffee nearby. The scene never left him.

“That’s what I want to do,” Emaish remembers thinking. “I want to create something.”

Music came just as early. At his father’s evangelical church, a Canadian missionary left behind an accordion. Emaish would lie on his bed with the heavy instrument resting on his chest, pressing keys, discovering sound before he understood it. Later, he played at church, drawn to melody in the same way he was to color.

But life, like art, does not always follow a straight line.

On Nov. 22, 1983, at age 20, Emaish emigrated to the United States in search of opportunity. “In Jordan, there are limits. Here, possibility feels within reach,” he said.

He studied English and enrolled briefly at UAB, pursuing art, but practicality led him elsewhere. Another early influence, a stylish young man named Kamal, showed Emaish something unexpected: that hair could be more than a trade. It could be art — expression.

Emaish enrolled at East Lake Beauty College and finished in 1985. By 1989, he was working as a stylist. His first month, he had only two clients. Three years later, he became a partner.

In 2009, he became owner of Sax Hair Design.

Today, Emaish serves around 500 clients per month, and he is always booked. But numbers do not tell the whole story. What matters is what happens in the chair.

“This is not just hair,” Emaish said. “People tell you everything. You listen. You care of them.”

Over the years, he has cut hair for three generations of families. He has styled brides for their weddings and given their children’s first haircuts. He remembers stories, milestones, struggles.

The chair becomes a place of trust, and that trust is something clients feel the moment they sit down.

Sharrie Stratas has been part of that story since childhood. “Mom brought me when I was 8,” she said, then added while laughing, “She asked Monier to cut my hair short, and I cried. Now every time he says, ‘Are you sure? Are you going to cry again?’”

Over time, the relationship deepened. “He did my wedding. He’s cut my kids’ hair.” Then her voice softened. “When my mom was diagnosed with cancer in 2020, she wanted Monier to cut her hair for chemo. He went to Atlanta, stayed the night and cut her hair. Two weeks later, she passed.

“Monier is more than a hairdresser. He’s like family.”

At home, Emaish’s world is just as full. He shares his life with his wife, Rola, and their daughters, Zaina Decastera and Laila. Family is the center of everything.

Rola smiles when she talks about her husband. “He’s a blessing,” she said. “The studio is his second wife, but I’m never mad! He still finds enough time to share love with us, lots of love.”

Her own journey has been marked by deep hardship. Rola lives with bilateral trigeminal neuralgia, a condition that has required radiation and three surgeries, bringing with it constant, often unbearable pain.

“Monier has been my anchor through it all,” she said while gazing at him affectionately — that gaze that says everything.

Rola works as an interpreter at UAB, continuing to give to others even while carrying her own challenges. Together with Monier, they have built a life rooted in faith, resilience and love.

“Her faith is strong,” Emaish said. “And I have to be just as strong. That’s love.”

Monier carries that same spirit into everything he does, including art and music.

During the COVID-19 pandemic, after becoming ill himself, he returned more seriously to painting. “I realized that life is too short,” he said. “I wanted to express myself more.”

His work, often focused on faces and emotion, led to the opening of Gallery Monier and a showing that just concluded with the Homewood Arts Council at Homewood City Hall.

In addition to painting, music remains a constant. He plays keyboard and leads worship at an Arabic Baptist congregation, moving between traditions, sounds and cultures with ease. He makes his own instruments, including the oud, drawn to its rich, fretless range.

And when there is time, he builds. He designed his own salon stations, and he has worked on designing his hearing aid to fit comfortably.

“I haven’t been bored since sixth grade,” Emaish said with a smile.

There is something in that statement that feels like a key to understanding this renaissance immigrant. His life has been shaped by movement — from Jordan to Alabama, from learning a new language to building a business, from hair to painting to music and from hardship to gratitude.

But through all of it, two things have remained constant: his hands and his heart.

They still move with purpose. They still create. They still love.

On any given day in Homewood, someone sits in Emaish’s chair at Sax Hair Design, not just for a haircut but for something harder to name. A moment of care, perhaps — a conversation, a small act of connection.

And Emaish, who came to this country looking for opportunity, has spent a lifetime giving back. Before the first client arrives, before the mirrors fill and the day begins, his heart and hands are ready.

They have always been.